


Youngjae

by theflyinganonymouse



Series: powers au [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: 2jae friendship, Beginnings, Gen, back story, but everyone gets their time to shine, eventually, i love youngjae so much okay???, power au, second in series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyinganonymouse/pseuds/theflyinganonymouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Choi Youngjae was sixteen when he joined the Company.<br/>Well, joined seemed like the wrong word. Joined made it seem like he'd had a choice and Youngjae was pretty certain that there hadn't been any other options. Youngjae definitely didn't remember agreeing to it and why would he?<br/>Youngjae had been happy in his life before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long - it's turned out to be a lot longer than expected!

Choi Youngjae was sixteen when he joined the Company.

Well, joined seemed like the wrong word. Joined made it seem like he'd had a choice and Youngjae was pretty certain that there hadn't been any other options. Youngjae definitely didn't remember agreeing to it and why would he?

Youngjae had been happy in his life _before_. He had parents who loved him more than anything and older siblings that doted on him. None of them let him want for anything. He always had the latest accessories and gadgets to show off at school and he spent most of his evenings after school at singing lessons – paid for by his father – that he treasured. He had a Saturday job at a little book store in the centre of town that paid well enough that he had money to buy sweets on the way home from school a couple of times a week.

And he was popular at school, too. He knew there were a lot of people who had been bullied but he had never been one of them. The kindness he showed to others was always repaid in kind. He was smart as well, nearly top of his class, but that only won him admiration instead of scorn. Even all the teachers were good to him, some of them even going as far as to show favouritism when they thought they could get away with it.

Youngjae was happy.

He was a normal boy with a normal family and a bright future ahead, hopefully doing something he loved like singing.

He, like everyone else, had head of those with _powers_ and he, like everyone else, was scared and distrustful even of the idea of someone like that living in their community. 'Gifted' was the polite term for them but Youngjae was more used to hearing 'mutants' and 'freaks.' Youngjae felt lucky that he'd never met one in real life. The most exposure he ever got to them were the news reports on the radio and television which told of the death and the destruction they left in their wake.

He listened when the media told him to hate them and he did so without thought. It was just a part of everyday life. That was, until he found out he was one of them.

It started with the new teacher at school.

She was unkind to Youngjae without reason and she looked at him as if she could see into his very soul. Her nose was always wrinkled in disgust whenever she heard him ask one of his friends or one of the other teachers for help with something, her face growing furious when they easily agreed.

There was something about her that set him on edge and he tried to avoid her when he could. Still, he was polite to her when he had to talk to her and treated her with the respect a teacher deserved even if she didn't quite extend him the same courtesy.

Life continued on as normal and Youngjae started thinking seriously about what he wanted to do with his life. He spoke to his friends about going to Seoul and training to be an idol and even mentioned the idea in passing to his parents to test the waters.

But then one day he was called into the principal's office. He had never been in there before, had never even been threatened with it, and it set him on edge.

The teacher who disliked him so much was in there with the principal, his parents and a man that he didn't recognise. Youngjae hovered by the door, ready to run, because his mother was crying and his father's face was cold and empty. He didn't even look in Youngjae's direction.

“Take a seat.” The principal said, motioning to the empty seat between his parents, but Youngjae shook his head.

“What's going on?” He asked, looking at his mother with wide eyes.

Something in his chest hurt seeing the tears stream down her face. He had never seen her cry before.

She opened her mouth to respond but the teacher cut her off, “you're one of _them_.”

“What?” He asked, stupidly, not understanding what she meant. “One of who?”

“Don't play dumb.” The teacher snapped even as his mother asked, “is it true?”

“Is what true?” He asked. He moved to his mother's side, the comfort being close to her brought outweighing the instinct to run. “I don't understand what's going on.”

“No.” The strange man said suddenly and Youngjae jumped. He had forgotten he was in the room with them. “Perhaps you don't. It's a very subtle gift, after all.”

“What are you talking about?” Youngjae asked.

“You're gifted.” The man told him, silencing the teacher with a look when she opened her mouth to complain about his choice of words. “I don't think even you've noticed what you can do. But think, don't you think it's strange that people are always so agreeable around you?”

“No.” Youngjae shook his head.

“You've honestly never thought about why you always get everything you ask for?” He asked.

“My family love me.” Youngjae said but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. “I'm popular at school. People have always returned my kindness.”

“You know that's not true.” The man said.

Youngjae's mind raced, trying to think, and then something hit him. He looked at his father, “you- you didn't want me to do singing lessons. I heard you telling Mom but when I asked you agreed. Why?”

His father wouldn't meet his eyes, “you asked, my mind went blank and I paid for them.”

“What do I do?” Youngjae asked and there were tears forming in his eyes and his hands were gripping at his throat. “What am I? One of them – a freak?”

“One of us.” The man corrected him and he didn't look put out at Youngjae's words. “You seem to have a very interesting gift – one that I haven't seen before. You can manipulate people, get them to do the things that you want them to with just a couple of words. Quite an extraordinary talent.”

Youngjae's heart seem to stop beating, “that's not true.”

But it was true, wasn't it? Hadn't he overheard his parents arguing about so many different things through his life, about what he should and shouldn't be doing, and they had completely changed their opinion to align with his when he had spoken to them about it? The singing lessons especially, his father had been adamant about those. He hadn't wanted Youngjae to take them, had told his mother that they were a waste of time and money, but then when Youngjae had finally worked up the courage to ask him for them he had agreed in an instant.

But that made him think – how many other moments were there like that? How many of the people around him had he bent to his will without even realising what he was doing?

“I never meant-.” He was crying now, his words coming in huge, gasping breaths, but his mother didn't move to comfort him like she usually would. “I didn't even know I was doing it.”

“What shame you bring on your family.” The teacher spat at him. “Having one of _them_ for a son.”

He dropped to his knees by his mother's chair and sobbed into her lap. She didn't run her hands through his hair and she had always done that, ever since he was a small child, and that hurt more than anything.

“We won't tell anyone.” His father said.

“Do you think that's really fair?” The principal asked. “The other parents should know who their children are attending school with.”

“And I'm not going to keep it quiet.” The teacher told him, her words full of spite. “I wouldn't want my children in school with one of them.”

“Then what can we do?” His mother asked and, at last, her fingers moved to Youngjae's hair.

There was a heavy silence then and Youngjae's sobs slowed as the world seemed to stop.

“I work for a school that looks after gifted children like your son.” The man said at last. “It trains them to control their powers and prepares them for adulthood out in the world beyond the school. We make them into functioning members of society.”

“Where is it?” His father asked. “And how much?”

“An hour or so east of Seoul.” The man told him, a small smile playing at his lips. “We do not ask for money. What we do is for the good of the children, we cannot charge for that.”

Youngjae sat up and he tried to lock eyes with his mother, “you're going to send me away?”

“What other choice do we have?” She asked, her gaze fixed on his father.

Youngjae left that evening.

His mother had hugged him and kissed him and told him she loved him before he had gotten into the car that had taken away from everything he had ever known. He had been in too much shock to really do or say anything back. He had just spent his last few hours at home cramming his life into two suitcases and trying not to cry and it was all too much for him, everything was moving too quick.

He was alone in the car apart from the driver and neither of them made any attempt at conversation.

They drove through the night and Youngjae mostly slept just so that he wouldn't have to think. It was a long drive and they stopped a couple of times to use the restrooms at passing service stations but it was still dark when they finally reached their destination.

It was nothing like he had expected.

There was a huge chain link fence illuminated by floodlights and there were men in uniforms with guns held casually in their hands by the gates and patrolling along the fence. He could see a handful of buildings beyond the fence but there was only one that was fully lit and that was the one they drove to once they had been waved through the entrance by the guards.

“This is where I leave you.” The driver told him when they pulled to a stop but he helped Youngjae carry his suitcases into the brightly lit building anyway.

It was clear that there was more to the building than the room Youngjae had entered into but from the size of the entrance he guessed there wasn't much more. It was a lobby with cold white walls and black tiled floors and the woman sat at the reception desk was dressed impeccably for whatever time in the morning it was. Youngjae was certain he looked a mess with his sleep rumpled clothes and red-rimmed eyes.

“Ah, you must be Youngjae.” She greeted him, warmly. “Welcome.”

He bowed but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say.

“You must be exhausted, it's such a long drive from Mokpo.” She tutted. “But I won't keep you long. Please can you hand over your cell phone and any other electronics you have?”

“What? Why?” Youngjae asked.

“Students aren't allowed any kind of electronics.” She told him, not unkindly. “I'm sorry but I really must take them from you.”

“But how will I contact my parents?”

“There are phones in the sleeping quarters so that you can phone your family.” She explained.

Reluctantly, Youngjae handed over his phone and his laptop and he tried to tell himself that this was normal but he had never expected that he would have been cut off from his old life so completely and quickly.

“When can I call my Mom?” He asked.

“You'll have an induction tomorrow, contacting the outside will be explained to you then.” She said and he heard the automatic doors he had entered through open behind him. The receptionist's eyes moved to the new figure and Youngjae turned to follow her gaze, “JB, just in time.”

The boy didn't look that much older than Youngjae, maybe a couple of years, and he was obviously another student. He was dressed far too casually to be anyone but. His sweatpants were old and tatty and the t-shirt a little bit too big. He wore a badge on a lanyard around his neck that had his photo on it, Youngjae noticed and he found it odd. He scowled at the bright lights of the reception and Youngjae was immediately intimidated.

He bowed deeply when the other approached and introduced himself.

“I know who you are.” JB told him before asking the receptionist, “are we good to go?”

“Just a few forms to sign.” She replied and Youngjae signed everything that she passed to him without reading any of it, far too aware of JB's presence at his side.

JB picked up one of Youngjae's suitcases when the receptionist was satisfied there wasn't else he needed to do for the moment and Youngjae had to jog to keep up with his long strides as they left the building.

“Where are we going?” Youngjae asked.

“To bed.” JB snapped but he slowed his pace. “It's two in the morning.”

“I'm sorry.” Youngjae said.

“For what?”

“For you having to wake up to come get me.” Youngjae said, earnestly, and he jumped when JB laughed.

“It's not your fault.” He shrugged and then asked, “are you hungry?”

“No.” He answered. His mother had packed him some food which he had eaten on his journey despite the way his stomach had rolled.

They had reached another building now, not too far away from the one they had just been in but it was not very well lit, only a few windows letting out any light into the world, and JB swiped them in with the badge he wore around his neck.

“We're on the third floor.” JB told him. “The elevator is broken so we're going to have to take the stairs. You can thank Yugyeom for that when you meet him in the morning.”

Youngjae didn't quite manage to keep pace with JB but he didn't do too badly. JB was carrying his heavier suitcase so that had made things easier but he didn't like the idea of having to go up and down the stairs multiple times a day.

There was only one door on the third floor and JB held it open for him after swiping his badge, “home sweet home.”

Youngjae stepped into a common room. There were a couple of overstuffed and threadbare sofas pushed against the white walls and the couple of small end tables that bracketed them were overflowing with books, magazines and half-empty bottles of water. There was no television or evidence of any other kind of electronics except for the ancient looking stereo underneath one of the windows. There was a tower of CDs by its side that looked ready to collapse at any moment.

“The maknaes were supposed to tidy up.” JB shrugged, pulling the door closed behind him.

“It's fine.” Youngjae assured him but he was lying. It felt too cold and impersonal despite the fact it was obviously lived in and the only real colours in the room came from the various items of clothing left forgotten on the backs of the sofas or on the floor. It didn't feel anything like home, like it ever could be.

“The bathroom is just there,” JB pointed to their right. “There are four shower stalls so we don't tend to argue too much in the morning.”

“How many other students live here?” Youngjae asked.

“There are seven of us in total now that you're here.” JB told him before nodding at the corridor to their left. “Bedrooms are down there.”

Youngjae nodded and JB pointed to the first door on their left as they passed it, “that's my room. Jackson is opposite and Yugyeom's next to him. Your room is this one,” they stopped outside the next door down from JB's and Youngjae saw the small plaque on the door with his name on. JB's had had one, too. “Junior is next to you and Mark and Bambam are at the end of the hall.”

JB motioned for Youngjae to enter first and he did so, the older boy following closely behind.

“You can lock your room from the inside if you want but no one really bothers.” JB told him before moving to put Youngjae's suitcase at the foot of his bed. “I hope it's okay. We weren't told you were definitely coming until late this afternoon so we really only had time to dust and put fresh sheets on the bed.”

Youngjae forced himself to smile, “it's nice.”

It wasn't. It was a long room with two windows on the wall opposite the door and he could see the brightly lit perimeter fence through them, he would have to make sure that the curtains were firmly closed to keep out the light. The walls were the same white as in the rest of the dorms and the carpets the same dull grey. There was a large desk that took up most of the space on the back wall beneath the windows and squeezed next to it was a single bed with immaculately made white sheets. There was a wardrobe and a chest of drawers, too, as well as a small bookcase by the door which someone had left couple of tattered paperbacks on.

It felt like a prison cell.

“There's an alarm on your desk, I've already set it to go off at seven. That should give you enough time to shower and get ready. I'll walk you to breakfast at eight.” JB said.

He left then and Youngjae collapsed on to the bed, tears running down his cheeks. His heart longed for his parents and everything he had left behind but, at the same time, he felt strangely numb, as if none of what had happened had quite sunk in. He wanted to talk to his Mom or his sister or _anyone_ from home. He wanted to be told that everything was going to be okay. He didn't want to feel so desperately alone.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something on his pillow. Slowly, he leaned over and picked it up.

'Welcome' the card declared in English, the letters bold and coloured in with black pen, and there was a smiley face below. It was obviously handmade and quite childish in its simplicity. There was a note on the inside in Korean this time, 'we hope you will be happy here with us.'

A warm feeling spread through him then and, suddenly, he didn't feel so alone.

It made him want to try.

He hadn't wanted this new life and, in the end, he hadn't had a choice but to come to this place. But shouldn't he be trying to make the best of it? He had brought shame on his family for being the way he was, the very least he owed them was to give everything he had to make things right in this new life. He had to make it up to them for what he had done to them with his powers, without even knowing it, he wanted to give them a reason to love him instead of just warping their minds into thinking they did.

Filled with resolve, he put the card up on his desk next to his alarm clock and changed into his pyjamas before getting into bed. He was asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow but he slept fitfully, never quite feeling like he had properly dropped off.

He was ready to get out of bed when his alarm started to blare even though he felt exhausted. Nerves bubbled in his stomach for the day ahead and he wondered what was in store for him.

Someone had left a towel and some toiletries for him on the top of the dresser and he took them with him as he retraced his steps from the night before down the hall and through the common room. He was relieved that, for the moment, no one else seemed to be awake.

The bathroom was more like the one at his high school than the one at home and much bigger than he expected. In the centre of the room there was two rows of sinks, back to back, each with a large mirror hanging over the top. To his right there was a row of toilet cubicles and to his left the shower stalls. It was messy with towels and clothes left on the floor and toothpaste dried to the sinks.

There was someone already in the middle shower and Youngjae's hand shook as he brushed his teeth, choosing one of the sinks with his back to the showers so he could keep an eye on the door to the stall through the reflection in the mirror.

It was when he was rinsing his toothbrush that he caught sight of the face. It was staring at him through the door to the shower.

He screamed.

Because the face wasn't looking at him from over he door or peeking around the door but _straight through it._

“I'm sorry!” The person shouted and his face disappeared back behind the closed door.

Youngjae was shaking. He had forgotten he was in a dorm full of _them_. The very idea terrified him and he clutched at his toothbrush so hard that it hurt because suddenly the door to the shower stall was opening and the other boy was walking straight towards him.

“I'm so sorry!” The boy said, one hand gripping at the towel around his waist and the other hand outstretched in Youngjae's direction. “I didn't mean to scare you – I just, I thought I heard someone and I thought-.”

There was the pounding of footsteps in the hall and soon JB and another boy burst into the bathroom.

“What happened?” JB demanded, looking between Youngjae and the boy in the towel. “Junior?”

“I scared him.” The boy in the towel said, throwing Youngjae an apologetic smile. “I thought it might be Yugyeom, I was going to try and make him jump-.”

The boy who had run in with JB started to cackle.

“It's not funny.” Junior insisted.

“Is that your power?” Youngjae asked him, his heart still beating too quickly. “That you can walk through things?”

Then, suddenly, he was terrified.

“Does that mean you could get into my room – even if I locked it?”

“What? Yes, I could but I wouldn't invade your privacy like that.” Junior answered, his face hurt.

Youngjae wrapped his arms around his middle and shrank away from the other three boys, “how can I take your word for it? You're one of _them_.”

“One of them?” The nameless boy repeated, laughter dying on his lips. “Don't you mean one of us? You wouldn't be here if-.”

“Shut up.” Youngjae cut him off and the boy immediately stopped talking. “I'm not- don't you...”

But he trailed off because wasn't the boy speaking the truth? Youngjae _was_ one of them.

“Junior, go finish your shower.” JB spoke up then, his eyes fixed on Youngjae. “Jackson, make sure the others are getting up.”

The two other boys did as they were instructed and Youngjae couldn't read the expression on the the taller boy's face.

“Look,” JB started and Youngjae avoided meeting his eyes, certain he was about to be told off for being disrespectful. “I know it's hard but please don't be angry at Junior. It was an honest mistake. We know that you're new to this and it's going to take some time to get used to being around people like us.”

Youngjae sneaked a glance at JB but didn't say anything.

“You're not the only person to come to us not knowing who you are.” JB continued. “So we know it can take some time to adjust. Just... trust us, please. You're safe here, with us. We're going to help you.”

Youngjae felt torn between being frightened and wanting to believe everything JB had said. He remembered his thoughts of the night before and squashed his fear down.

He needed to try.

“It's going to take time.” JB told him. “Please don't push us away.”

“Okay.” Youngjae said and he didn't quite know what he had agreed to but hope began to flare in his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay here.

He went for a shower then before retreating back to his room to get dressed, thankfully not running into anyone even if he could hear movement behind their closed doors as he passed.

JB was waiting for him by the main door at eight along with Jackson and Junior. They were dressed casually, JB and Junior in jeans and a t-shirt and Jackson in sweats, and each wore the same blue lanyard that held their identity badges. They all smiled at him as he approached and he, without thinking, smiled back.

They didn't look like the monsters the media made people like them seem to be. They looked just like normal teens, like him.

Junior apologised again for the shower incident as they left the dorm and Youngjae shrugged it off, “it's okay. It was pretty funny, I guess.”

“It's cool what you did earlier.” Jackson said as they descended the stairs. “Making me shut up like that. How did you do it?”

“It's his gift.” Junior told him even as JB muttered something about Youngjae performing a miracle.

But Youngjae was confused, “I didn't do anything. Did I?”

Jackson laughed, “you don't even realised when you're doing it, do you? Amazing. This is going to be so much fun.”

Jackson's words weren't unkind, in fact, he seemed excited, but Youngjae felt himself tense anyway.

“I didn't meant to do it.” Youngjae said, worry bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, I know.” Jackson grinned at him. “But you're going to learn how to, that's why you're here. But until you do, I'm going to enjoy this. Do you think-?”

“No.” JB cut him off, not even looking back at Jackson from the front of their little group.

“You don't even know what I was going to say.” Jackson protested and when Youngjae looked at him he saw he was pouting.

“It's still a no.” JB told him.

“Don't listen to him.” Jackson stage-whispered, eyes fixed on JB's back. “He's just being boring.”

They had reached the bottom of the stairs now and JB led them out into the morning sunshine.

“It's because he's old.” Junior copied Jackson's whisper.

“I'm not old.” JB protested. “I'm only eight months older than you, Jinyoung.”

“Physically, perhaps.” Jackson teased. “Mentally, you're a grandpa. I'd say somewhere in your eighties.”

“At least.” Junior added.

“That's it.” JB snapped and he threw a hand in the direction of Jackson and Jinyoung's feet and the ground began to shake. They lost their footing and fell to the ground and as soon as they did the shaking stopped.

Youngjae, who had only managed to stay upright due to the grip JB had on the back of his t-shirt, breathed, “what was that?”

“Annoying.” Jackson answered, dragging himself to his feet and brushing himself down.

“It's my gift.” JB told him and he, graciously, helped Junior back onto his feet. “I can cause things to vibrate.”

“Like an earthquake?” Youngjae asked, close on JB's heels as they walked to the next building over.

“Sometimes.” JB shrugged. “But it doesn't have to just be the ground. I can make anything vibrate. Look over there at that tree for example.”

Youngjae looked at where JB was pointing and the tree in question began to shudder and shake and some of its leaves came loose and fell to the grass below.

And, in spite of everything he had ever been told and everything he had ever believed, he couldn't stop an expression of awe slipping past his lips, “wow.”

“You think that's cool?” Jackson asked and he pulled one of the sleeves of his overly large black t-shirt up and flexed his bicep at Youngjae. “Get a load of this.”

“That's... that's not very impressive.” Youngjae said, confused as to why Jackson was flexing his arm at him.

JB and Jinyoung started to laugh.

“Hey!” Jackson exclaimed, letting his sleeve fall back into place. “I said your gift was cool.”

“What were you trying to show me?” Youngjae asked.

“Forget it.” Jackson said but Youngjae could tell he was only teasing.

They were stood in front of a squat building, only a short walk from their much larger dorm building, and JB said, “this is the food hall. Breakfast for trainees is between seven thirty and nine. Lunch is either between noon and one or one and two depending on your schedule.”

“First lunch is always better.” Jinyoung told him as he stepped through the door and then held it open for the rest of them to follow. “It's fresh then.”

“And there's usually desert left then, too.” Jackson added.

The food hall was much busier than he thought it would be. Most of the people in there were older than the four of them and dressed much smarter but there were other teens and even a table full of children that were being supervised by two harried looking women.

“Are all these people students?” Youngjae asked.

“No, a lot of the workers from the big building like to come eat here, too.” JB told him.

It was much like the cafeteria at his school with a number of different stations offering a multitude of choices of food and a dozen or more round tables for people to sit at and eat.

“They share breakfast and lunch with us but dinner is for trainees only.” Jinyoung told him as Youngjae picked up a tray.

Youngjae stuck close to JB and copied the older boy's choice of cereal, fruit and a bottle of orange juice which only made JB smile when he noticed.

They went to a register and a woman wearing a white uniform and a half-asleep expression rang their food up. JB handed over his badge for the woman to scan, explaining, “I have extra allowance for Youngjae.”

She didn't seem to care and soon JB was leading them to an empty table at the back of the hall, next to one of the large windows, “this is our table. Everyone else knows not to sit here.”

Junior took the seat next to Youngjae when he joined them, sandwiching him between himself and JB, and Jackson the seat opposite. They ate quietly for a few minutes before Youngjae voiced something that had been playing on his mind, “this place isn't a school, is it?”

“Is that what they told you it was?” Jackson snorted.

Youngjae nodded.

“It's half right. There is a school here and you'll have to go to lessons.” Jinyoung told him. “But there's more to it than that.”

“Besides the normal school curriculum, the Company teaches us how to use our gifts amongst other things.” JB said.

“Like what?” Youngjae asked.

“How to fight.” JB said, simply, before continuing, his tone earnest, “we need to know how to defend ourselves. The Company tries its best to keep us safe but there's a lot of stuff we need to know to do the job ourselves. The world outside of the complex can be dangerous for people like us.”

“You called us trainees.” Youngjae said. “What are we training for?”

“To join the Company.” JB answered. “To join the fight for our rights. Don't you think we deserve the chance to live like normal people?”

Youngjae changed the subject, “how long have you been here?”

“Just over four and a half years for me.” Jackson said with a shrug. “But those two have been here since they were little kids.”

“Why?” Youngjae asked and he felt something painful flare in his chest on their behalves, “couldn't your parents look after you?”

Youngjae regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. They were too personal, too painful, and he should have known better than to say them.

He went to apologise but was interrupted by two more people arriving at their table.

The two boys looked to be Youngjae's age, if not a bit younger, and both wore excited smiles on their faces as they sat down, their trays piled high with food.

“Youngjae-ah!” The smaller of the two said. “It's good to meet you at last. The hyungs said that we had to keep away this morning.”

“Jaebum hyung said that we can be overbearing.” The second said through a pout.

“I didn't say that.” JB protested. “That was Jackson.”

“It was.” Jackson agreed, his grin a bit too smug.

“Oh, the irony.” Junior rolled his eyes.

“Is it true?” The smaller one asked around a mouthful of banana and earning himself disapproving looks from the older boys. “Did Jinyoung hyung really scare you this morning?”

“Bambam!” Jinyoung scolded.

Youngjae nodded, “yes. He stuck his head through the door to the shower and-.”

“And I don't think they need to know.” Jinyoung cut him off.

Bambam tutted, “and you made us promise to be on our best behaviour.”

“Such irresponsible hyungs.” The second added. “I thought you said there was a line, Jinyoung hyung?”

“You're going to cross it if you're not careful.” Jinyoung warned.

JB changed the subject, “where's Mark?”

“The big building.” The still nameless boy said, giving JB a knowing look before turning his attention back to Youngjae. “I'm Yugyeom, by the way, since none of the hyungs have been polite enough to introduce us.”

“Why introduce you when you do such a good job of it yourself?” Jackson asked, sweetly, and Yugyeom stuck his tongue out at him.

“And I'm Bambam – the cute one.” Bambam told him and earning a chorus of groans from the others, even Yugyeom.

“He's been saying that for years.” Junior told him in a conspiratorial whisper.

“But I am cute!” Bambam protested.

“You're downright adorable.” Jackson agreed, reaching over and mussing Bambam's hair much to the younger boy's annoyance. “No one is denying that. It's just the monologue that follows that no one is looking forward to.”

“But I don't want to be cute anymore.” Junior mimicked Bambam.

“I want to be charismatic.” Yugyeom joined in.

“I want to be seen as a man.” JB added.

They all grinned at Bambam and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest and letting out a huff of exasperation, “why are you so embarrassing? I don't say any of those things.”

Jackson scoffed, “please.”

Then Bambam's face and body shifted and twisted and suddenly Youngjae was looking at an exact replica of Jackson, even down to what the other was wearing.

“Please.” The Bambam version of Jackson repeated, his voice perfectly matched.

“Hey!” The real Jackson objected and he looked like he was about to protest some more but then his expression shifted and he gave the mirror of himself a charming smile. “I look really good in that snapback.”

“I told you.” Bambam-Jackson said.

Youngjae's eyes were wide as he stared first at Bambam and then at Jackson, trying to pick out any differences but not being able to find any.

“That- that's...” The Youngjae of yesterday wanted to be shocked and horrified. Today's Youngjae wasn't. “That's amazing! Can you do that with anybody?”

Bambam-Jackson grinned and then Youngjae was looking at JB.

This version of JB scowled as he stuffed his mouth with a slice of toast, food spilling out of his mouth as he gestured at Youngjae's half-eaten bowl of cereal, “don't just sit and stare, eat your breakfast, kid. Can't let anything go to waste.”

“That's Jinyoung hyung!” Yugyeom corrected.

Bambam shifted into Junior mid-chew, “no waste! Back in my day we only-.”

“That's enough of that.” JB cut in, giving Bambam a stern look.

“Aww, Jaebum hyung, we were just having fun.” Yugyeom complained.

And then Bambam was Yugyeom and he repeated the other's words, exaggerating the tone in the other's voice and making him sound like a spoilt brat.

“I do not sound like that!” Yugyeom snapped and he slapped Bambam-him on the arm.

Youngjae felt JB and Jinyoung tense on either side of him and Bambam's features slipped back into his own, a strangled yell of pain slipping past his lips. Yugyeom's eyes widened and he looked both terrified and incredibly guilty.

“I'm sorry!” He cried. “Are you okay? I didn't mean-.”

But then Bambam started to laugh and Youngjae felt JB and Jinyoung relax even as Yugyeom flushed bright red and pouted.

“Gotcha!” Bambam looked far too pleased with himself.

“I don't understand.” Youngjae said, sure he was missing some kind of joke.

“Yugyeom's really strong.” Bambam told him.

“Like really, really strong.” Jackson added. “He broke my arm once.”

Yugyeom's blush deepened and he hid his face behind his hands, “it was an accident! Why do you always have to bring that up?”

“It _was_ an accident.” Jackson assured Youngjae quickly. “All I'm going to say is don't get in between this kid and the last piece of desert.”

“Hyung!” Yugyeom wailed.

JB rolled his eyes before looking at his watch, “are you finished, Youngjae? I need to take you over to the reception building for your badge.”

Youngjae quickly finished the rest of his cereal before both he and JB threw away their rubbish and put their trays away.

“They're nice.” Youngjae said once they were outside.

“What had you been expecting?” JB asked. “Monsters?”

Youngjae shrugged, his cheeks stained red, “I don't know.”

“The outside world isn't good to people like us. It tells lies about how all we've been built to do is destroy and kill.” JB was frowning and Youngjae felt ashamed. “But that's not true. All we've ever done is fight for the right to live just like everyone else. Hell, even dogs have more rights than people like us. We're told that we bring shame on our families, that we should be ashamed of ourselves, but why? We were born this way, we can't help our gifts as much as you can't help being tall or short. Of course, it's easier for some of us to pretend to be Normals. We can turn our gifts off and join the wider world and _pretend_. We'd have to be careful to keep control of ourselves but it's doable. We could lead normal lives. But someone like Yugyeom, for example, there's no off switch. One slip and he could seriously injure someone, even kill them.”

They were outside the reception building now, Youngjae recognising it from the night before, but they didn't enter. Not yet.

“It'd be an accident but the rest of the world wouldn't see it like that. They'd see another freak, another _monster_ , and they'd lock him away for the rest of his life without any kind of remorse. Even though he's just a kid.”

Shame overwhelmed him. Had it been only yesterday when he'd thought the same? Before- before he'd found out who he was, hadn't he been as blinded with hate as everyone else?

“I'm sorry.” Youngjae said and he wasn't able to look at JB

“Don't be.” JB told him. “You've lived your life as a Normal up to now. How were you to know any different?”

“I should have-.”

“Should have what? You were happy. No one here, at least from our team, is going to begrudge you that. A lot of us were happy at one time, too. We still are. It's just harder now – we all have something we regret about our gifts.” JB wrapped an arm around Youngjae's shoulder and pulled him into his side. Youngjae leant into the heat of his body and breathed in JB's smell. “But we're here now. The Company has saved so many of us. They don't want us to live in shame and fear anymore.”

“Are you happy?” Youngjae asked, suddenly desperate to know. He needed to know there was a chance for him, too.

“For the most part, yes.” JB replied, honestly. “But I don't think there's anyone who is ever completely happy.”

“I was.” Youngjae said.

“Maybe you will be again.”

 


	2. Chapter Two

They were late into the room where Youngjae was due to get his badge done but the man waiting for them, dressed in a suit but wearing the same green coloured lanyard as Youngjae had seen the security guards around the complex wearing, only smiled in greeting when they entered.

Youngjae expected JB to bow just like he had done but was surprised when JB instead went and hugged the man.

“Dahyeon hyung!” JB exclaimed and Youngjae could see he was smiling, widely. “I thought they'd sent you to Seoul?”

“They had.” Dahyeon told him. “But then the higher-ups noticed the amount of trouble you and your lot were causing without me here to keep an eye on you and they sent me back. They seem to think you don't listen to anyone else.”

“Trouble?” JB wore an innocent expression. “There's been no trouble from us. In fact, I think you'll find our behaviour has been exemplary over the last few months.”

Dahyeon gave him a look that clearly said he didn't believe a word that had left JB's lips, “then what's this that I hear about the sprinklers in the school house?”

“Nothing to do with us.” JB said, a little bit too quickly.

“Then what about the incident with the harpoon in the food hall?”

“Harpoon?” Youngjae repeated, his eyes wide.

“Well,” JB conceded. “That was us but you should really talk to Jackson about that, it was his idea.”

“And the jeep on the airfield?” Dahyeon asked.

“Complete accident.” JB told him. “We didn't know it was going to blow up like that.”

“What?” Youngjae asked.

“You don't want to know.” JB said with a shake of his head before looking back at Dahyeon, “how do you know all that?”

“I have my ways.” Dahyeon tapped his nose.

“Are you sure you don't have a gift?” JB asked.

“My only _gift_ has been somehow getting you lot to sometimes listen to me.” He responded. “Not that I'd call it a gift. It's brought me nothing but wrinkles and grey hairs.”

“I did think you were looking old.” JB said, solemnly, and then skipped out of reach when Dahyeon went to hit him.

He straightened his suit, giving JB one last mock glare and turned his attention to Youngjae, “so you must be the latest addition to G Group.”

JB nodded and introduced him, “this is Youngjae, he arrived from Mokpo last night. He's a good kid.”

“Jaebum and the other boys will do right by you.” Dahyeon told him, giving Youngjae a warm smile and all hint of teasing gone from his voice. “You couldn't have been put with a better team. Just be careful that they don't get you into any trouble.”

JB blushed and Youngjae stammered, “I'll do my best.”

Dahyeon took his photo then and set up his badge while JB hoovered by the door, looking on with a soft smile on his face.

“You must wear your badge at all times outside of your dorm.” Dahyeon told him when he passed the finished badge over to Youngjae, watching carefully as he slipped the blue lanyard over his head. “Your badge gives you access to all the buildings that you're authorised to enter as well as your dorm room. You will need to use your badge to swipe for your food in the cafeteria and when you want to use any of the phones or the computers in the rec room. All your personal allowances are stored on here: an hour for telephone calls per month, an hour on the computer per month and your calorie intake per day. You'll find out what this is after you've had your physical examination.”

Youngjae frowned and his heart clenched painfully in his chest, “only one hour a month for telephone calls? That's hardly any time at all.”

“It's for security reasons.” Dahyeon said.

“If you ever need any extra allowance then just ask me, Junior or Mark – we always have extra.” JB spoke up.

“I'll pretend I didn't hear that.” Dahyeon said but his expression was soft.

Dahyeon then took him through a number of other important rules regarding lessons and curfews that Youngjae knew he hadn't taken in fully. He was then given a schedule that looked fairly similar to the one he'd had at his old school, content-wise, except there was a lot more time devoted to physical education than he was used to as well as there being a number of hour blocks labelled only as 'tutorials'. The days were longer, too, even if they started earlier, most days not finishing until dinner.

“Can I take a look?” JB asked, peering over Youngjae's shoulder, and he didn't wait for Youngjae to answer before plucking the piece of paper from his fingers. JB let out an appreciative whistle. “You're smart. You only have maths and history with Mark and the maknaes – everything else you're in the same class as Junior. Impressive.”

Youngjae felt his cheeks heat up, “how many classes are there?”

“Well, for teenagers there are only two. There aren't as many of us as there used to be so classes are split by ability rather than age but they still only move people into the upper class if they think they're really good enough.” JB explained. “The seven of us will have all physical education together so you don't have to be worried about being alone in that. They use physical education as team building.”

Youngjae accepted the paper back from JB, folded it and put it into his trouser pocket for safe keeping. They said their goodbyes to Dahyeon, JB once again hugging the older man, and Youngjae followed JB back outside.

“How do you know each other?” Youngjae asked. “Was Dahyeon a student here, too?”

“No. He doesn't have any kind of power, none of the guards do.” JB told him. “He had just started here as a guard when I arrived. He was very kind to me, just when I desperately needed someone to be. I followed him everywhere, it must have been very annoying but he never complained. Or at least not to my face.” JB smiled. “He was the closest thing to family I had until the others started to arrive.”

They were walking side by side in the direction of their dorm building, the early summer sun warm on their backs, “how long have you been here?”

“Since I was three.” JB said with a shrug.

Youngjae actually stopped in his tracks, “what?”

“My parents died and the Company were the only ones willing to take me in. They saved my life. No one else wanted me, who knows what would have happened to me if they hadn't brought me here.” JB had stopped walking, too, just a little bit further down the path than Youngjae and he turned back to look at him with one eyebrow raised, “are you coming or not?”

Youngjae took a couple of long strides to catch up, mouth opening and closing but not quite knowing what to say.

They walked passed their dorm building and up the slope towards the food hall but turned right instead of entering. There was a building to their left that was similar in architectural style to the food hall, grey and blockish and far too practical looking to have any actual personality, to their left. It sat behind the reception building, the distance between them creating a large quad area that was mostly grass and trees but had a couple of benches as well. It contrasted starkly with the grey of the buildings surrounding it.

“That's the school house.” JB pointed at the building on their left. “Unfortunately that's where you'll be spending most of your time. There's a gym in the basement where Jackson practically lives. If you ever need to find him for anything, check there first. And straight ahead – that's the big building.”

The big building was, just as its name suggested, big. It was taller than any of the other buildings in the complex, much wider, too, and it was made almost completely of a dark glass that made it look more modern than anywhere else in the complex.

“Your badge won't give you access to anywhere beyond reception in there which is more than enough. Mark and Jackson are the only ones who go there with any kind of regularity.” JB explained. “It's nothing to worry about.”

“Why would they need to go there?” Youngjae questioned with a frown. He still hadn't worked out what Jackson's power was – could he be dangerous?

“The scientists are still trying to work out how far Jackson can push his powers and see if there's a way to limit Mark's.” JB answered. “I don't think they're having much luck, Jackson's never enjoyed being a test subject.”

“What can they do?”

“You mean you haven't got Jackson's hints?” JB laughed. “I won't spoil it for you. No doubt he wants to tell you himself in his own way. Mark's not nearly as dramatic – he can read minds.”

Youngjae didn't know how to react.

“He... he can-? Was he there in the dorms last night?” He asked and his mind and pulse were racing.

JB nodded, looking worried, “he wouldn't have pried.”

“But he'll still have heard?”

He didn't need JB to say anything to know that this Mark person would have been able to hear every thought he'd had.

He felt violated and on edge, once again seeing the signs of the prison this place was not subtle about hiding, the fence beyond the buildings, the guards and their guns and the identity badges that everyone wore. It had been bad enough finding out that Junior could walk straight through his locked door and into his room if he wanted but Youngjae felt some sense of security in the fact that he hadn't done so just yet and, if he had tried, then Youngjae would have known about it. But this? There was no way for Youngjae to know what he'd heard, if he had dug deeper, if he'd found anything worth sharing with the others, except for JB's word. It wasn't enough.

JB continued up the path that snaked around the school building to another building that had been very nearly fully hidden from view where they had just been standing. He told Youngjae, “this is the infirmary.”

Youngjae nodded and they went inside.

JB stayed in the waiting room while Youngjae was taken into a small room. He was weighed and measured and had his blood taken and went for x-rays and he was in there for _hours_ but he hardly noticed the passage of time. His attention was still so completely fixed on the fact that _his thoughts were not his own_.

JB was still waiting for him when, looking bored until he caught sight of Youngjae and then smiling widely, “are you ready for lunch?”

Youngjae nodded.

“It'll be second lunch so there might not be any desert left, I'm afraid.” JB tried to joke but it fell flat.

There was someone sat on the bench outside of the school building when they reached it and Youngjae knew he wasn't imagining the nervous look JB gave him before leading him over to the bench.

“Hi Mark.” JB smiled and Youngjae, even after knowing him for less than twelve hours, could tell it lacked its usual warmth. “This is Youngjae.”

Mark looked genuinely pleased to see him but Youngjae couldn't help but frown.

“Yellow.” Mark said to him by way of greeting, his voice quiet and hoarse, and he beamed at him. His voice sounded again in Youngjae's mind, accompanied by a quiet hum, _yellow like the sun_.

“Keep out of my head!” Youngjae snapped and he screamed it in his mind, throwing up the image of walls in his head and pushing them out so there was room for nothing in his mind except his own thoughts.

He saw Mark flinch and pale but the voice had stopped and the hum had disappeared and that was all that Youngjae cared about.

JB was frowning as he looked between the two of them, his jaw working as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say, but he was saved from having to say anything at all by the door to the school house opening and a handful of teens pouring out into the sunshine. Yugyeom and Bambam were among them and they rounded on them immediately.

“Well?” Bambam asked, expectantly. “What colour?”

“Yellow.” JB told them.

Bambam groaned while Yugyeom let out a whoop and pulled Youngjae into a quick hug, “I knew it!”

“How could you know?” Bambam asked and there was a petulant edge to his voice.

“You're only sore because you thought he was going to be a shade of green.” Yugyeom said with a smug smile, not quite letting go of Youngjae as they started towards the food hall.

“Turquoise.” Bambam corrected him and Yugyeom rolled his eyes.

“What do the colours mean?” Youngjae looked quickly at Mark before directing his gaze at Jaebum.

“It's part of Mark's gift. He sees a colour in his head along side a person's thoughts. It's mostly just shades of grey and black but each of us so far have had a colour.” JB explained. “We hoped you'd have one, too.”

“What does they mean?”

“They don't _mean_ anything.” Bambam shrugged. “Just that we're special in Mark's head for whatever reason.”

“Oh.” Youngjae frowned.

He didn't feel like yellow.

Yellow was a happy colour. It was bright and bold and beautiful. Youngjae didn't feel like that and he definitely didn't feel special, either.

“I'm purple.” Bambam told him. “I was a bit disappointed at first but then I looked it up on the internet and saw it's meant to signify creativity and wisdom.”

“And pride and grandeur.” Yugyeom added.

“That's not bad.” Bambam argued. “You're just trying to make it sound that way because orange is such a boring colour.”

“Orange is not boring.” Yugyeom protested.

“They've had this argument a thousand times.” JB told Youngjae as Yugyeom and Bambam continued to bicker.

They reached the food hall and Mark broke away from their group instead of entering, instead turning left and continuing down the slope to the dorms without a word or a backwards glance.

Bambam and Yugyeom threw JB questioning glances.

“Headache.” JB supplied. “He's gone to go lay down.”

“He's moody.” Bambam tutted and then said to Youngjae, “you can't tell he's the oldest hyung, can you?”

They entered the food hall and Youngjae stayed close to Bambam as they picked up trays and went about choosing their lunch.

“Mark is the oldest?” Youngjae asked and he was genuinely surprised. “But JB said that he's in the same classes as you?”

“He's not stupid if that's what you're thinking.” Bambam said. “Korean isn't his first language. He's a foreigner like me.”

“Your Korean is very good.” Youngjae complimented Bambam and he meant it. It had only been his pronunciation of a couple of words that had tipped Youngjae off that Korean wasn't his mother tongue.

“I know.” Bambam smiled and there was a softer emotion on his face than Youngjae wasn't used to seeing, as if he was trying to convince himself that the words were true, too. “I've worked very hard.”

They finished choosing their food and took their places at their table.

Youngjae felt some of the tension leak from his body as he talked to Bambam and Yugyeom, JB chipping in every now and then, letting them interrogate him about where he was from, what he liked and disliked and what he thought of life in the complex so far. It was easy for Youngjae to feel comfortable around them and the more time he spent with them the more he liked them.

Too soon lunch ended and Yugyeom and Bambam had to return to lessons, no matter how much they pleaded with JB to let them take the afternoon off to help Youngjae unpack. Youngjae and JB returned to the dorms and they spent the next hour or more going through Youngjae's suitcases and finding a place for all of his things in his room.

It felt strangely personal doing this with JB, having all his things laid out for the older boy to see, but JB was nothing but nice about it. He found it hard to relax, though, knowing that there was someone only a couple of rooms away who could hear every thought he had.

“You can decorate your room however you want.” JB said once they were finished, piling Youngjae's suitcases on top of his wardrobe. “We're probably only going to be here another couple of years before we move into the city but don't let that stop you. We've all done ours and you've got to make it feel like home.”

“Can I see?” Youngjae asked and then blushed. “I mean-.”

“Sure.” JB cut him off with a smile. “I can show you everyone else's, too, if you want. Except Junior's, the lock on his door is broken, or so he says, and has been for a long time. His gift being what it is, it's never really bothered him but it's turned into a bit of a joke. Jackson and the maknaes have never been in before so they like to tease him about all the secrets he has hidden away in there.”

Youngjae followed JB into his room. The layout was identical to his own but this room looked lived in – the desk cluttered and dirty clothes on the floor – and Youngjae liked it immediately. The walls were a pale blue and the crumpled sheet on his bed a deep navy. It looked like the room of a normal teenage boy.

“See?” JB said. “It's a blank canvas. We can get some paint and new bed covers on the next delivery and make your bedroom feel more like home.”

Youngjae offered him a timid smile.

“Do you want to see the others' rooms?” JB asked.

He nodded, “if you don't think they'd mind.”

“Of course not.” JB assured him.

Jackson's room, across the hall from JB's, was tidier but not by much. It was more of a square than Youngjae's own room but held much of the same furniture except that the desk had been swapped for a large black leather sofa. One of the walls was painted a deep red and all the soft furnishings were a mix of that same red and black. It was more stylish than Youngjae had been expecting.

“We tend to spend more time in here than we do in the common room.” JB told him. “The sofa is much comfier.”

Yugyeom's room was next. His walls were still white but there were huge photographs of brilliant orange sunrises and sunsets on each wall. His desk was messy but Youngjae could see framed photos of his family amongst the mess that made his own heart clench as he thought of his own family. There was a huge mound of pillows on the bed, most square or rectangle but others in the shape of animals, and the were all different shades of orange.

“Are you starting to see a theme?” JB asked as he led Youngjae into Bambam's room.

Youngjae's jaw actually dropped. He felt like he'd stepped into something straight from a magazine. The walls were all wallpapered rather than painted – a bold purple, black and silver pattern – and the bedsheets were a black silk and the furniture a deep mahogany and nothing like the standard furniture everyone else had. It was immaculate, from the row of shoes against one wall to the sheets on the bed, and Youngjae found it hard to believe he was in the same building.

“It's beautiful.” Youngjae said.

“So it should be. We spent hours putting it together.” JB told him. “Bambam had an image in his head of what he wanted it to look like and wouldn't let any of us rest until it was perfect. It's not really my style but it makes him happy and that's what is important.”

“Would you help me do my room?” Youngjae asked. “When I decide what I want to do with it?”

JB nodded, “of course. Come on, I won't show you Mark's room because he's sleeping but I thought-.”

“How do you know?” Youngjae interrupted.

If Mark was sleep then that meant his thoughts would be safe.

“When Mark sits in our thoughts, there's a hum. I don't think he has to do this but he does it out of courtesy, kind of lets us know he's there. It's a constant thing, like a background noise, it's easy to get used to it. It's at a lower pitch when he's sleeping which makes it a bit harder to hear.” JB explained.

“He's in your head all the time?” Youngjae asked, finding some confidence knowing that Mark was asleep and wouldn't overhear. “Don't you find that... invasive?”

Mutants like Mark were the ones that the normal population were most scared of.

JB gave Youngjae a look he couldn't read, “I guess it's a difficult thing to get your head around at first but you get used to it. He doesn't pry unless he needs to and he knows to keep quiet about things he's not meant to know. After a while it feels strange to not have him in your head.”

Youngjae doubted that.

JB gave him a tour of the rest of the building after that. There were six floors in total, not including the basement. The top five floors were much like their own and they were unable to get passed the front doors even if JB made him test his badge on the top couple of levels, which he assured Youngjae were unoccupied, just to see if on the off-chance that it would work. The ground floor was different. It wasn't set up like a dorm like the other floors but instead was just one long corridor of rooms and Youngjae could see from the plaques on the doors that these were all shared rooms.

“These are the kids' rooms.” JB told him. “You don't get moved onto a floor until you hit your teens and they've decided a team for you. This,” JB pointed to a room in the middle of the corridor as they walked passed, “is mine and Junior's old room. Two little girls live in there now.”

“You've lived your whole life here.” It wasn't a question. Youngjae felt sad for JB, though, he tried not to show it. He couldn't imagine living his whole life cut off from the rest of the world, having everything he did be overshadowed by the horrible chain link fence. But then he smiled. He didn't have to imagine it. This was his life now.

“There's trips into Seoul every other Saturday.” JB said and he sounded defensive. “To go shopping or visit the museums. Bambam and Jackson go whenever they get chance. We're not locked away from the world in here.”

Youngjae didn't say anything.

They went down into the basement. It was split into two rooms: one that had a number of large sofas, a football table and an old jukebox while the second held two ancient looking computers and what looked to be a payphone.

“I'm going to phone my parents.” Youngjae said on catching sight of the telephone.

JB nodded and agreed to meet Youngjae back in the dorm.

Once he was alone Youngjae swiped his card on the phone and dialled the number that had been ingrained into his memory since early childhood. It rung and rung and just when Youngjae was about to give up hope, someone answered.

“Youngjae?” It was his mom.

“It's me.” He confirmed and, suddenly, he was crying. “It's me, Mom.””

“My little boy.” She breathed and he could tell that she was crying, too. “Are you okay? What is this school like? I was waiting for you to call this morning.”

“I'm sorry, it's very strict here. I won't be able to call you very often.”

“That's okay. Just whenever you can.”

“I will.” Youngjae promised.

He could hear his mother sniff, “are they treating you well?”

“Yes. I'm sharing a dorm with six other boys. They've all been very kind to me. They've shown me where my lessons are going to be and where to go to eat.” Youngjae paused for a moment before saying, “I think I could be happy here.”

It wasn't a complete lie.

“And they're like you?” His mother asked. “Are they-?”

“They're not monsters. They're just normal boys like me.”

He didn't dare tell her that he was sharing a dorm with someone who could read his mind, he didn't want to frighten her.

“Be careful.” She warned. “You can't trust _that_ _kind_. Be on your guard. You're such a kind, sweet boy – don't let them take advantage.”

When their conversation came to an end, he had a bad taste in his mouth.

JB's words from this morning were still fresh in his mind and his mother's ignorance and intolerance weighed heavily on his shoulders – how had he never noticed it before, not even in himself? It made him feel unclean and incredibly guilty. The boys in the dorrm had been nothing but kind to him, even Mark, though Youngjae had a hard time admitting that to himself due to his fear of Mark's powers, what right did his mother – did anyone – have to assume the worst of them because of their gifts?

He went back up to the dorm room then. JB was waiting for him on one of the overstuffed sofas in the common room. He must have seen the traces of tears on Youngjae's face because he stood and opened his arms to him without question. Youngjae fell against his chest and sobbed into his t-shirt and JB held him tight until he couldn't cry anymore and when he was finished he didn't ask any questions or force Youngjae to talk, he just ruffled Youngjae's hair and gave him a knowing smile.

After Youngjae had washed his face, JB took him on a walk of the perimeter fence and this filled the bulk of their time before dinner. The complex was so much bigger than the buildings than Youngjae had already seen, stretching out for miles. Behind the food hall and the school house was a huge stretch of grass that JB informed him were the sports fields and Youngjae could just see the oval track cut into the grass as they passed. Beyond that were different clusters of buildings, some shed-like while the others looked more like barns, and while most of them were fairly new others looked like they were in the process of falling down. There was even a small airfield with a large hangar that ran the length of the back fence and Youngjae tried to not look too awed when they stopped to watch a small plane take off.

They ran into guards patrolling the fence at regular intervals. It made Youngjae nervous, at first, to see them and their guns up close but JB seemed to know the majority of the guards by name and introduced Youngjae to each pair that they passed.

The sun was setting by the time that they made it back to the main body of the complex and they were only few minutes late to dinner.

Youngjae was nervous as he took a seat at their table, it was their first time being together as a seven, but he realised how silly he was being within minutes. Nothing had changed since breakfast and lunch. Bambam and Yugyeom still wanted to know everything about him that there was to know and Jackson continued to show off. Even JB and Jinyoung's teasing didn't change. The only person who had really changed was Youngjae but that was only because he spent too much time focusing on the fact that Mark was there and he was awake and he could be trawling through every thought he'd had since he'd arrived. He spent the whole meal on the edge of seat, waiting for Mark to suddenly announce all his deepest darkest secrets to the others and tell them all of his flawed thinking about people like them.

He didn't.

In fact, he didn't talk at all. He laughed a long with everyone else's jokes and obviously made ones of his own using his powers but he never spoke out loud and he never did anything to make Youngjae feel uncomfortable which made him feel even more guilty for holding Mark at arm's length.

But it was surprisingly easy to do so as the days passed.

In the lessons that they shared Mark kept to himself and Youngjae let Yugyeom and Bambam command all of his attention. In their group physical education classes Youngjae spent more time trying to keep up and not pass out than on anyone else, though, he was grateful for JB and Jackson as they became his biggest cheerleaders, encouraging and pushing himself further than he thought possible. And when they had free time – which wasn't as often as Youngjae had first feared with their lessons going on until dinner most nights and their weekends full of homework and more physical education classes – Mark either sat in the background of their conversations or would excuse himself. On more than one occasion he'd seen Jinyoung take Mark by the hand and pull him through the solid wood of his locked door and into his room beyond. It never failed to make Youngjae shudder.

And after a few days it felt like he'd been there for weeks and after a couple of weeks it felt like years.

He was happy.

Except, except that in his private tutorial sessions he struggled. His tutor was gifted, unlike any of the teachers or guards or scientists from the big building who sometimes came to watch their group exercises like hawks, and all it had taken was the most fleeting of touches on the back of his hand for her to know exactly how his gift worked.

She taught his how to identify his gift working, the faintest of tugs at the base of his throat that he had never noticed until she had pointed it out, and how to suppress it.

He couldn't do it.

His gift was so ingrained into his every word and action that he couldn't just _stop_. More than a few times he found himself saying something that came out as a suggestion that one or more of the other boys couldn't refuse. Simple, stupid things like grabbing him a bottle of water or letting him wear their hoodie or their jacket because he was cold. Sometimes he didn't even realise he'd done it until minutes or hours later and it always made him feel so guilty. The others often noticed before he did, more aware of his power and what to look out for than his friends and family had been, and they would hide smiles until he worked out what he had done while snickering at the unfortunate left to do his bidding.

He _knew_ they didn't mind because as much as they pretended to be annoyed, or, at least, Jackson pretended to be annoyed, they were always quick to wave his apologies off and never failed to remind him that he was still learning.

And it made him feel better because he had seen the others mess up with their gifts, too. He'd seen a half-asleep Jinyoung drop a mug of coffee through the table at breakfast one morning and he'd seen JB level one of the sheds out in the fields when all he had been trying to do was shake the building enough to knock Yugyeom off his perch on the roof. He'd seen Bambam slip back into his own features during one of his many roast sessions and he seen Yugyeom break more things than he could count. He'd seen Mark get so lost in the voices in his head that he'd become catatonic for hours on end and he'd seen Jackson – well, he still wasn't sure what Jackson's gift was. No matter how much Jackson flexed or showed off or tried to drop hints, Youngjae just couldn't work out what Jackson was trying to tell him.

And it made him feel better, knowing that the others were less than perfect. But there was a small voice in the back of his head that told him the others were only so forgiving of his mistakes because Youngjae wanted them to be. That they were only so kind and welcoming because Youngjae had made them that way.

That voice kept him up at night. Because he could now recognise his power working, he knew that he was liked for who he was and not because his powers made the other boys like him. He knew it in his heart of hearts but it was hard to trust logic, trust reason, when his guilt and fear was so much stronger.

It was one such night, an anonymous Wednesday towards the end of his first month, and he couldn't sleep. The same worries were screaming for his attention never mind how much he tried to squash them down. It was particularly bad that night due to a slip at dinner that had had Bambam surrendering his desert to him and then refusing to take it back once Youngjae has realised what he had done, pouting and complaining for the rest of the evening if only in jest. It had made Youngjae feel terrible and his mind still wouldn't let it go.

Over and over he replayed the incident in his mind as he tossed and turned and fought back tears of frustration. He was just about to let go and cry when there was a knock on the door.

Youngjae wiped hurriedly at his eyes and got out of bed. He padded to the door in his bare feet and pulled it open, expecting to see Bambam or Yugyeom or even JB but it wasn't. It was Mark.

“Sorry.” Mark whispered and he pushed passed Youngjae and into his room. All Youngjae could do was shut the door behind him, watching as Mark stood awkwardly in the centre of his room, not quite comfortable enough to take a seat on his bed or at his desk, and wait for Mark to say something. He did so after biting and licking at his lips, “I'm sorry. Your thoughts are so loud, I couldn't help but overhear.”

“You have not right to listen to my thoughts.” Youngjae snapped at him, exhausted and on edge.

“I don't have a choice.” Mark snapped straight back, his voice never leaving its whisper. “I'd turn it off if I could but there's nothing I can do to get it to stop.”

Youngjae folded his arms across his chest, “what do you want?”

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.” Mark told him. “You've never had any kind of training before – do you really think you're going to perfect at controlling your gift in such a short amount of time? It's been a month, you're doing great. And I know you're worried about what the others think and they know how hard you're trying and how much you've learnt already. They're impressed.” Mark's voice was creaking and cracking and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could continue. “They like you for you. Your gift hasn't had any kind of effect on what they think of you. You have nothing to worry about. They like you.”

Youngjae felt his defensive façade crack and his arms dropped to his side, “how do you know?”

Mark gave him a look as if to say, 'did you really just ask me that?' and Youngjae laughed and then started to cry.

Mark was gentle, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Youngjae resisted him for a moment before burying his face in Mark's neck and sobbing in earnest.

“It's okay.” Mark murmured. “They like you. Trust me, they already see you as their brother. They like _you._ ”

He felt better by the time his tears had stopped, a good kind of tired and more settled than he had felt in a long time.

“I'm sorry.” Youngjae said between sniffles. “I got snot on your t-shirt.”

Mark made a face at him before tapping at his throat, “my- can I-?

Youngjae nodded.

 _Thank you._ Mark smiled, the gentle hum he recognised from before filling his mind. _My voice isn't very good. You don't mind, do you?_

“It's okay.” Youngjae said. “Just strange.”

 _This is how I talk to the others. Would it be okay if I talk to you like this, too?_ Mark asked.

Youngjae thought back to his first night. What had he said to himself then? That he was going to try. He needed to try with this, too.

 _We'll start slowly._ Mark assured him.

“Okay.” Youngjae agreed.

The smile Mark gave him was brilliant.

The hum didn't leave him all night but once he got passed the initial oddness it was actually comforting and helped him slip into a deep sleep.

At breakfast Mark greeted him with a smile like he usually would and it was like nothing had changed except that Youngjae was now in on the, admittedly very bad, jokes that Mark told, his voice echoing in Youngjae's head.

Lessons were better. Mark warred with the maknaes for Youngjae's attention and cheated quite shamelessly from Youngjae during class tests. He became more involved in their time together as a group and Youngjae, who thought he had been happy before, found he had been lying to himself. He didn't worry anymore. Sleep came easier and even on the nights where those niggling worries started up again all it took was a couple of silent words to reassure him and stop the words before they could do any damage.

In the end, he didn't even mind that his thoughts weren't private anymore. Mark had had so many opportunities to embarrass him or to say something to the others that would have had them looking at him differently but he hadn't.

Instead he found it convenient to have Mark sit in on his thoughts. Mark could answer questions before Youngjae could put them into words or help Youngjae set up jokes at the others' expense.

And Youngjae was getting better, too, at understanding and controlling his gift. It could be frustrating at times but now he wasn't so scared of making mistakes. Certain that he wasn't going to lose the other boys' friendships for slipping up, control came easier. His tutor was amazed at his progress and JB always wore a proud smile whenever he heard anyone compliment Youngjae on just how far he'd come in such a short amount of time.

Youngjae was happy.

What he thought could never feel like home quickly became one. He no longer paid any attention to the fence or the guards or cared that he didn't have his cellphone or access to the internet whenever he wanted it.

He had found a family who loved and accepted him for who he was, gift and all, and encouraged him to always try.

And when he said he wanted to paint his bedroom, he had six willing volunteers.

“What colour?” JB asked even as Mark smiled widely.

“Do you even have to ask?”

“Yellow?” Bambam guessed.

“Yellow.” Youngjae confirmed.

It was his colour, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it! Sorry, it has taken me so long to get it out. Please, please let me know what you think - your comments definitely motivate me!! Bambam next :D
> 
> Also, if any of you have tumblr, I have finally succumbed and made myself a got7 sideblog. Please feel free to come talk to me: hrhqueencoco .tumblr. com

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? I hope you liked it! This has turned out to be so long... No one else's story (except perhaps JB's) will be this long. We haven't even got around to Youngjae meeting Mark yet!


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